Hey Webmasters! New Photo Album Service Launched - Check it out!
|
|
|
THE FAMILY ALBUM
my mother did that
snipped him out
like a hangnail
but the black eyes
broken arms
shattered dreams
remained
in the critical gaze
of revenge
WAR STORY
an old soldier's hands
accept the folded flag
a bugle plays taps
proud and angry he wonders
if his son is finally free
TWELVE BARS
she sings the blues
like it ain't no thing
but her heart's on the table
scarred and belabored
like a boxer who stayed
too long in the game...
her mouth an open wound
life's venom turns to honey
the burn becomes balm
and we all believe her
when she says
Every thing's gonna be all right
this morning...
All first published in Sacramento News And Review
talk to the stones
listen to the trees
becoming the forest
a river otters splash
takes my breath away
coroners wagon
a murder of crows
watches him depart
all he ever said to me
was get off my lawn
my soul is pierced
by the haughty scrutiny
of those who know
nothing of my heart
or the golden days to come
facing the east
dawn accepts a prayer for peace
with withered fingers
and admires this precious gem
plucked from gods jewelry box
a flash of wings
from the mulberry tree
unfortunate worm
born of tempered clime
this is where the robins go
first rain
smells of wet cattle
and creosote
I pull on my boots
while the old dog sleeps
century plant
begins to bloom
i count the years
of watching and waiting
when will my time come?
scrabble board falls
haiku arranges itself
in a perfect form
is it mine to claim?
the cat disapproves
My sweet Natasha
saw her in a highway dream
and i found her there
curled as in a peaceful sleep
on the double yellow line
td width="100%" height="30" colspan="5">
|
| The Ideas In Ink Site Ring |
|
| |
NOLA
High water line
up there in the attic
where the corpses were found
and the devastation remains
a mote in the eye
that cannot be washed away
like so many lives
in a murky flood
exposing
the sins of the fathers...
LEAVING
who would have thought
twenty years could fit
in a couple of garbage bags
threadbare mementos
of times and places
barely remembered
until the fighting stopped
and we looked deeply
into each others eyes
shiny and new once more
for a day or so…
suddenly, my tears
bouncing off the linoleum
a slow motion dance
of anger and regret
and the photo on the fridge
wins again
PURGATORY
far behind lies
the realm of the senses
this bleak netherworld
drowns me in shades of gray
neither black nor white
devoid of all color
as would be a painting
of my past life
This is a place to realize
my path was barren
devoid of adventure
depressingly safe
I never took a stand
swam against the tide
or laughed in the face
of mediocrity
HEARTBREAK
her head on my chest
rises and falls
as I breathe her in.
there in the dark
she listens to my heart
and I cannot forget
the smell of her hair
another glass of presidente
chainsmoking regret
and wondering why
she never told me
why
bravenet.com
